You, Me, and the Walls
by MissAnnThropic
Summary: Trip and Archer have a heart-to-heart while stuck in quarantine for two days.


Title: You, Me, and the Walls

Author: MissAnnThropic

Spoilers: Set in Season 4

LiveJournal: miss_annthropic(dot)livejournal(dot)com

Summary: Trip and Archer have a heart-to-heart while stuck in quarantine for two days.

Disclaimer: Has never been and shall never be mine.

Author's Note: A Stargate SG-1 DVD extra described an episode with Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson alone together as 'putting two characters in a paper bag.' This fic is in that vein of confining the interaction to two characters – Archer and Trip.

This fic has the dubious distinction of being in my 'great disappointment' category. In my opinion, it really fell apart at the end, but while it wasn't where I hoped for it to go that doesn't mean it won't be up someone else's alley.

* * *

As Captain Jonathan Archer peered into the small, single room that would be his and Commander Tucker's accommodations for the next three days, he scowled. He was the very picture of unhappy as he balked at the threshold like Porthos being dragged to the vet's office. Trip Tucker stood beside his captain looking far less perturbed with a bag slung over his shoulder and a PADD idly held against his thigh. Where the captain was an embodiment of unease, Trip looked observant but complacent.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Archer asked his second in command with a cutting look. It was, after all, her idea that they participate in this ritual.

T'Pol was unmoved by Archer's obvious disquiet with the situation. "The Bolians are a peaceable and social species; they are keenly interested in meeting new sentient alien species."

Archer glowered and took a half-step away from the door that would mean to trap them in a confined space, away from the ship and his crew. "So _they_ say," the captain returned shortly.

"Captain, Vulcans have been on peaceful terms with Bolia for several hundred years and in all that time we have never known them to be duplicitous. Their appearance _is_ their nature. I can assure you they have no intention of making any enemies with Earth."

Still a nervous ball of tense energy, Archer returned, "Then they might want to rethink this policy of locking up potential friends in a cell for two days."

T'Pol stepped over to Trip and took the PADD from his hand. She said as she extended it to the captain, "If you will recall the reading material I provided for you prior to this contact with Bolia, the Bolian people were recently ravaged by a virulent contagious disease, the Kekteni Plague. They have contained the outbreak and restored their populous to health, but only through careful screening for any signs of the contagion. Vulcan healers and scientists are working with Bolian physicians to try and discover a vaccine against this disease, but the work has been slow at best. The Bolians still rely entirely on detecting threats of infection."

Archer reluctantly took the PADD from T'Pol but did little more than glance at it. T'Pol paused at this, clearly annoyed that he would dismiss her research findings, but she continued her report doggedly. "The Kekteni Plague is carried by a virus that is deadly to Bolians but in most other species lies unnoticed by the host. Many species, including Vulcans, can be unknowing carriers of the virus.

"When new arrivals wish to make contact with the Bolian people, they must agree to this process." She gestured to the waiting room. "A quarantine period of seventy-two Terran hours. In Bolians, the Kekteni Plague was first manifested in madness and aggression within the first two days of infection. The new arrivals are monitored within one of these quarantine chambers for that period of time to ensure that no acts of unexplainable violence occur."

"But I thought we were _carriers_," Archer said in a bitter tone, his brows furrowed and mouth set in a thin line.

"Vulcans are, and so far the majority of other species in which the virus has been studied have been… however, you and Commander Tucker will be the first humans the Bolians have ever met." T'Pol looked pointedly at Archer. "The Bolians did not win their fight against this devastating disease without exercising stringent caution. They will monitor you to see if you display any signs of the disease.

"While you are in quarantine, samples of your blood will be simultaneously tested by Bolian scientists. They will introduce a unique protein to the sample that excites the virus that is otherwise difficult to detect."

"And how long does that take?" Archer asked with a glimmer of hope for a loophole.

"Three days," T'Pol replied evenly.

Archer narrowed his eyes at her.

T'Pol, unflappable as ever, placed her hands behind her back and lifted her chin. "The shortest period of time you can expect to be confined is three of your days."

Trip smirked. "I think we just got the Vulcan version of 'shut up and deal with it'."

Archer might have been amused if it didn't all come back to him locked up on an alien space station, severed from his ship and crew and counting on the 'good nature' of a bunch of aliens he'd never met. There was a time when he was naïve enough to think nothing ill of such a prospect. He would have believed there were truly benevolent and friendly aliens… then a Xindi weapon cut through Florida and Archer's trusting nature.

T'Pol studied the captain closely. "Captain, if you do not wish to establish relations with the Bolians on behalf of Earth, then return to _Enterprise_ and leave Bolian space."

Archer turned his back and paced away a few steps, seething. Then he whirled back and said, "All right, fine. We're out here to meet new species, so that's what we'll do. In the future," he looked sharply at T'Pol, "I expect you to tell me _before_ we're at some 'friendly' species' front door if they have customs that include imprisonment of any kind."

T'Pol lifted an eyebrow. "Understood."

Archer bent down and scooped up his bag from the floor where he'd dropped it.

"Let's go, Trip. Sooner we get this over with the sooner we're out of here."

Trip nodded, took the PADD back from T'Pol, and followed his captain into the small room. The door closed behind them and sealed them inside for the beginning of their three-day vigil.

Archer hoped he didn't display fits of madness just for being cooped up like a bug in a jar.

* * *

"It just doesn't make sense," Archer mused aloud for the fifth time in as many hours. He was walking the short length of the room while Trip sat on a bench with his attention split between the PADD in his hand and Archer.

"If these Bolians are such peaceable, out-going people as T'Pol says they are, why haven't we seen them before? We were out there doing our damnedest to make contact with _anyone_, and we've never seen hide nor hair of these – do we know if they have hide _or_ hair?"

Trip answered without looking up, "Data from the Vulcan database says they're blue and bald."

"Well, does it make sense that we've never run across one?"

Trip looked up then and considered Archer a moment, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as he measured his next words. "Well, yeah, it does. If they just now got this plague of theirs under control, and it had been a pandemic problem for them until recently, I expect they had more important things on their mind than looking for new friends."

"But wouldn't they _want_ to find new allies, someone who might have new methods of treating this disease?"

Trip merely shrugged. "We're living proof that not everyone you meet will be friendly."

Archer's temper subsided marginally. "And why invite more trouble when you already have enough on your plate?" he asked rhetorically.

Trip gave a 'there you go' look to his old friend.

"And this forced confinement doesn't worry you in the least?" Archer asked skeptically.

Trip thought on it a moment, then answered, "T'Pol said they're peaceful. That's good enough for me."

Archer gave their surrounding a good once-over for the hundredth time. "I still can't figure out why T'Pol would suddenly decide to 'recommend' that we make way for Bolia to establish relations with their government. Vulcans haven't been famous for introducing humans to other races in the larger galactic community."

Trip made a 'harrumph' sound in the back of his throat. "Not Vulcan High Command, anyway. T'Pol's not exactly your typical Vulcan. Ah, I'll bet she just thought we could use a nice, easy first contact."

Archer turned to his chief engineer. "You think she did this out of… what. Pity?"

Trip's easy demeanor melted a bit at that and he looked harder at his friend. "Sympathy. It's been a hard year for us. She knows that."

Archer sighed and looked down at the floor. "I know… you're right. I'm being too hard on her."

"She's just trying to help. She knows better than any Vulcan the toll the mission against the Xindi took on the crew. I think she's really looking out for _you_ on this one, if you ask me."

At that, Archer abandoned indignation for curiosity. "Me?"

Trip lowered the PADD, recognizing a more involved discussion. "Come on, Cap'n… you've been run into the ground with this damn search for the Xindi weapon. You've had to deal with a hell of a lot more than any human in history has. You're not going to come out of that without being… wound up."

"Wound up?"

Trip cocked his eyebrows. "Don't try to pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. You're not the same as you used to be before the Xindi attack." Trip's gaze dropped. "None of us are."

Archer stopped his fuming and ranting then to really study his friend. He stared what seemed a long time. In some ways, it was as though he was looking at Trip for the first time.

Archer slowly moved to the bench opposite Trip and sat facing his friend. "You're right… I'm not the same person I was. If I had been, I would have been a better friend to you."

Trip looked up, puzzled.

Archer leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Trip… I don't know if I ever properly told you how sorry I am about your sister."

Trip tensed fractionally. "Sure you have."

Archer shook his head. "No. I mentioned it in passing, as a prologue to a strategy meeting, as an aside in the captain's mess, but I just… I let it be a part of the momentum that had us racing out into the Expanse to find and destroy those murderers."

"You did what you had to do to save Earth," Trip said softly.

"But I think I lost a bit of myself in the process. I can't imagine the Jonathan Archer before that attack would have been able to look away the way I did when you were going through losing Elizabeth."

Trip looked uncomfortable but remained silent.

Archer said, "I'm sorry, Trip. I wasn't supportive of you when you were suffering. I wasn't there for you; I just put aside our friendship and saw you only as a chief engineer. As one of my closest friends, you deserved better from me."

"You had a mission to complete, one I was one hundred percent behind. Trust me, I never thought the worse for us not having a heart to heart."

"I know, and I wouldn't have done anything differently, because stopping the Xindi was paramount… but that doesn't mean I regret the rift that's opened up between us. I never even bothered to ask you how you felt, just… put it aside along with some of my humanity."

"It's all right, Cap'n," Trip said softly. He took a breath then continued, "It was hard, with Elizabeth gone. I had a rough time there for a while, but I'm… healing. Really, I'm okay."

"Good." Archer nodded then stopped and frowned when he gave Trip's words some thought. "How rough a time were we talking? Just how oblivious was I to what you were going through?"

Trip looked reluctant to say. Archer felt a twinge of guilt and worry. "I may have changed, Trip… but so have you. If anyone asked me right now to name my best friends you'd be in the top three… but despite that, sometimes it feels like I don't really know you anymore. We've… lost each other along the way."

Trip stared back at Archer and understanding and agreement was in his eyes.

"If we're going to be stuck in here for three days together… well, I'd really hope we could make something good come out of it, regardless of the kind of people these Bolians turn out to be. If you're game, I think our friendship could use a few patches."

Trip smirked slightly. He set the PADD down on the bench space next to him and gathered his thoughts a moment. "The nightmares were the worst. Dreams of how Elizabeth died. I don't know if I slept more than five hours total that whole first week.

"Phlox was giving me some pretty heavy duty sedatives at first, just to put me out so I could get some sleep.

"I knew millions of other families lost loved ones in the attack, but it felt like I was the only one who'd lost someone. I guess because I was the only one of _Enterprise_ who'd had a family member die in the attack."

"I didn't realize it was so lonely."

"At first… right after we found out about the attack, I thought there couldn't be anyone else in the world who felt as… gutted as I felt."

"You should have come and talked to me, Trip. If I'd known, if I'd taken the time to notice, I would have helped any way I could have."

"You had more important things to worry about, and they were my priorities, too. Kill those sons of bitches that did it. Besides, at the time, I wouldn't have wanted your 'help'." Trip slouched down in his seat. "I sorta cut myself off from the rest of the crew for a while."

Archer blinked. His gregarious, outgoing friend turned recluse? How could he not have noticed such a drastic change?

"I'm sorry you had to go through it alone," Archer murmured.

Trip went conspicuously still and silent for a long moment. "I didn't. When I stopped shutting everyone out… the truth is, Cap'n… T'Pol got me through it."

"T'Pol?" Archer parroted, surprised despite himself. He'd noticed the two of them working better together, but he had chalked it up to the situation forcing a truce between the two.

Trip nodded, then stopped and looked askance at Archer. "Don't tell me you missed all the rumors flying around about us."

Archer gave a sheepish shrug. "You weren't the only one who cut themselves off from the rest of the crew."

Trip nodded.

"So… what rumors?" he asked, beginning to feel a bit of the old teasing tête-à-tête he used to share so effortlessly with Trip.

Trip scowled. "T'Pol had been doing this thing called Vulcan neuro-pressure with me. It's a series of postures and body point stimulations that induces relaxation. It was letting me sleep without the doctor having to shoot me full of drugs."

"Neuro-pressure… I don't think I'm familiar with it."

Trip gave a twisted smile. "It's not exactly the kind of thing they invite with others. It involves _a lot_ of touching."

Archer stopped to wrap his head around the idea of Trip and T'Pol touching frequently. He knew better than anyone how adverse Vulcans were to physical contact.

"Many of the posture require the removal of clothing, so the crew would see me heading to her quarters after my shift in sweat pants and a T shirt because they're easy to get out of and, well… the crew _assumed_."

Archer's eyebrows rose. "How much 'removal of clothing' are we talking here?"

Trip sighed and rolled his eyes. "Most often shirts; there are a lot of neural nodes in the back and shoulder area. Feet, too, if you can believe that."

"Given how 'finicky' T'Pol is about being touched, I'm surprised she agreed to it."

Trip chuckled. "Well, she didn't want to at first, and neither did I. The doctor had to practically sabotage us into it to start with. I wasn't interested in being babied by a Vulcan who would just as soon I stuck my head in the warp core."

Archer laughed. "But you two both got over your objections, apparently."

"Yeah." Trip smiled to himself strangely. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Cap'n, but Vulcans can be great counselors. T'Pol… she made me feel like it was okay to live again. Not running on adrenaline, bent on revenge, only seeing as far ahead as killing the Xindi. I mean she made me want to get back to _living_ again."

Archer shook his head. "You're right… it's almost too hard to believe."

Trip chuckled.

"You know," Archer mused, "now that I think about it, T'Pol's seemed a little more comfortable lately with the rest of the crew. Remember how stiff and awkward she used to be in social situations?"

"Oh, yeah."

"She looks like it feels more natural now." Archer cut a look at Trip. "Was that your doing?"

Trip gave a sheepish shrug. "She'd kill me if she knew I told you, but she's actually just as insecure and nervous as the rest of us, deep down. The better I got to know her, the more alike I realized Vulcans and humans truly are."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that. You, of all people. Trip 'All Vulcans Should Be Shoved Out An Airlock' Tucker," Archer teased.

"That was myopic of me to think. I was everything I accused _them_ of being back then. Trouble between our species is we're both just as bad as the other, if you ask me."

Archer leaned back against the wall behind him. "Commander Charles Tucker the Third, champion of the Vulcan reputation. I can just see the little devils down in hell having a snowball fight."

"Ha ha," Trip said sarcastically.

Archer chuckled. "But you know, in a way, I'm jealous of you for that."

"Pardon?" Trip looked up at his friend, puzzled.

"Just… when T'Pol first came aboard," Archer stopped and grinned, "_after_ overcoming the desire to shove her out an airlock… I tried to be her friend, but I never really felt close to her."

"She really respects you."

"Oh, I know she does, and _believe_ me I worked hard for that much. And I think the world of her as an officer. There's no want for professional respect on both our parts, but… it's nothing like me and you. I can't just sit around and shoot the shit with her. She's always very… correct. I get the feeling she is always _very_ aware of the fact she's talking to her captain. Well, almost always." Archer glanced down at his hands. "I just would have liked to have been her friend."

Trip pondered that a moment. "For Vulcans, respect and friendship aren't all that different."

"Still…" Archer dismissed it with a fateful grunt. "Just my silly human nature. I can't make a Vulcan into a human." Archer laughed self-deprecatingly. "Let you in on a secret… there was a time early on when I wanted _more_ than friendship from her."

Trip flushed and said nothing.

"How foolish is _that_?" Archer asked with another laugh and a shake of his head. "Me and her. For all I know, Vulcans and humans aren't made to… well, be compatible in _that_ way." When he noticed his friend's protracted silence, Archer looked at Trip and noted his discomfited expression. "Trip?"

Trip kept his eyes locked on his interlaced fingers as he said lowly in stilted words, "The mechanics work pretty much the same."

Archer gaped at his old friend. Trip slowly brought his gaze up to meet Archer's. There was solemnity in his blue eyes that said it all.

Archer sat forward at once, alert. "You _slept_ with her?"

Trip merely looked away.

Archer had a reprimand and the dangers of fraternization lecture on the tip of his tongue but the look of Trip stilled him.

Archer blinked in shock. "I don't know what to say, Trip."

"Yeah… kind of hard to imagine," Trip hedged, "T'Pol demeaning herself like that."

Archer scowled. "That's not what I meant. I seriously doubt she sees it that way." It wouldn't be like T'Pol to be so… petty. "So… ah, was it just one time, or is this an on-going thing between you two?"

Trip looked sidelong at Archer. "Are you going to put us on report if I said it was?"

That was answer in itself. "I'm not asking to censure you, Trip. I'm just asking as a friend."

Trip looked wary just the same. "As a friend… T'Pol and I, it's… more than casual."

Archer stared at Trip a minute, trying to fathom what he'd learned. He tried to comprehend how his best friend had changed so much that something like _this_ would fail to catch his attention. After a short while, he stood and began to pace.

"Soval told me once," Archer thought aloud, "that Vulcans don't take multiple partners, as he called it. It was his way of turning his nose up at the human practice of dating."

"I know."

Archer turned to Trip. Trip was watching him carefully but volunteered nothing else.

"Do you love her, Trip?"

Trip did not flinch. "What would you do if I said I did?"

Archer moved slowly closer to Trip. "As your friend, I'd be worried for you. I'd want to know if she's able to love you, too."

Trip mulled that question over a while before answering. "Not like humans do. She'll never say it, I know that. We'll never cuddle on a beach or walk hand-in-hand down the streets of San Francisco. We'll never dance without music or run barefoot in the rain. I'll never make her laugh."

Archer swallowed. "Sounds like a hard way to love to me."

Trip's lips twitched, though whether to smile or grimace Archer couldn't say. "Sometimes, I think so, too. Then I look at her and… those things don't seem as important as I thought they were." Trip sat contemplative a moment. "The way Vulcans love is soul-deep. They don't call it that, but that's what it is." Trip looked at Archer with a gentle smile. "Did you know T'Pol likes to steal bites of my pecan pie?"

"No." Archer thought a second. "And I'm not sure what's more surprising… that T'Pol actually _likes_ pecan pie or that she eats off your plate, given the way Vulcans are about their personal space."

"That's my point. _I_ know about her sweet tooth. I know her favorite candle scent, her favorite position to sleep in, the temperature she likes her showers, her favorite music." Trip cocked his head faintly. "I know things no one else will _ever_ know about her. It's the Vulcan way. Those things about her are only for one other living soul to know. For _me_ to know. That's the way Vulcans know to love."

Archer had to admit there was a certain romance in Trip knowing T'Pol's secrets. For one as private as T'Pol, it was an enormous allowance to share those things with Trip.

"Trip…" Archer began guardedly. "You're talking as though this thing between you two is of the 'til death do us part' variety of 'more than casual'."

Trip's mouth pressed closed. "Like you said, Jon, Vulcans don't date."

Archer sat down across from Trip again, this time on the edge of the bench to sit very close to his friend. "Are you going to ask T'Pol to _marry_ you?" Archer stopped and sat back. "Or have you already?"

Trip laughed. "No, I haven't asked her to marry me."

"Are you _going_ to?"

Trip shrugged, trying badly to fake ambivalence. "I might… if I thought she'd say yes."

The captain was stunned. "But I thought you said she… she loved you."

Trip's smile flitted briefly across his face. "She does. It's complicated. Marriages are different for Vulcans. They're arranged when they're children, based on tradition, using logic to determine practical pairings. Affection has no bearing upon betrothals. Hell… to Vulcans, getting married has nothing to do with love."

Archer frowned. "I guess some things Vulcan I will never fully understand."

"You and me both."

Archer studied Trip a moment then stood, crossed the small room, and sat down on the bench beside Trip. Trip looked at him curiously.

"Then I guess the important question," Archer said at length, "is can you two be happy together?"

Trip narrowed his eyes. "You're not going to give us hell about carrying on and working on the same ship together?"

"Do you want me to?"

Trip smirked. "No. Obligated to, though, I'd think."

Archer shrugged. "Probably should, if you asked Starfleet's opinion on the matter. But this mission won't last forever, Trip. I was your friend long before I was your captain, and I hope I'll be your friend long after, too. Call it human frailty if you must, but I'm more concerned about my friend's happiness than my chief engineer towing the Starfleet line."

Trip nodded carefully. "Well, I can't speak to the future… who knows? All I can tell you is that, right now, I can't imagine it being anyone else but her."

"You've changed more than I thought."

"We all have."

"T'Pol included," Archer teased.

Trip nodded in agreement then turned pensive. "Look… I don't mind you playing around with me about this, but do me a favor and don't tease T'Pol about it, okay?"

"She's gotten pretty good at taking a good ribbing in the spirit it which it was intended."

"Yeah… about human nature, or science, or politics. Matters of the heart… well, that's just an entirely different matter altogether. She gets scared just like the rest of us, Jon, and teasing her about how she decides to give her heart… it would spook her."

"I guess I can understand that, from what I know of Vulcans. Okay, Trip… I won't give her crap about it. Though maybe I ought to, just for her choice of partners alone."

Trip rolled his eyes.

Archer looked long and hard at Trip, at his demeanor, his mood, his posture. It was relaxed, content… peaceful.

Archer clapped a hand on Trip's far shoulder and said earnestly, "I'm glad you found her, Trip."

Trip smiled. "You and me both."

Archer leered playfully, "Now… since we've established a few facts here, any chance you could satisfy an explorer's curiosity about Vulcan women?"

Trip laughed at the ribald remark.

Archer cajoled, "Come on, Trip. We have three days, and it's just you, me, and the walls."

"Yeah, and if it got back to a certain set of pointy ears, I'd be the first human put in the doghouse by a Vulcan. And _that's_ if I got off lightly. Sorry, Jon… there's not enough hazard pay in the world to risk it."

END


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